


Love Isn't Enough Anymore

by pacattack777



Category: Homestuck
Genre: I did my best, I was told to write porn, M/M, sorry for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:46:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pacattack777/pseuds/pacattack777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I never really write this kind of stuff, but I tried.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Love Isn't Enough Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> So I never really write this kind of stuff, but I tried.

You never really knew what to do with your hands. They were always hovering awkwardly around the body above you until he got annoyed with that and rather forcefully held your wrists against the bed. Eventually you would get the message and settle for gripping the sheets instead. Only then would his hands leave to trail back up your arms before sliding down to your hips. Your skin always felt tingly when he did that, the rough pads of his finger pricking all the little nerves as they went. Whether he took to pushing your hips down or pulling them up once he got there you didn’t really care. All that mattered is that he didn’t stop. It’s not like it took you very long to get hot and bothered any more, but it also wasn’t like he cared.

All of it was quick. There wasn’t anything close to foreplay anymore. He rarely kissed you for very long either- and when he did it was only because he wanted to not that you could complain. It was usually an unexpected thing. He’d show up at your door with his hands in his pockets and that certain smirk that you have both learned to hate and love. Before you would know it he’d have you stark skin and bone and that deep set gaze of deep red that made you shrink under the intimidation. He would always have control, telling you exactly what to do and how to do it. Whether he wanted to make things fast or draw things out by humiliating you with costumes or toys- it was all his decision. You were just like a little puppet for him to play with.

Apparently today he just wanted to get it over with. He hadn’t even taken the time to undress. You on the other hand had nothing but a sock on, but only because he was too impatient to let you remove it. He left you to be cold and self-conscious while he merely pushed his pants and boxers down far enough to get the space he needed. You couldn’t give any opposition before he was holding you down and proceeding to fill up your way too small ass with very little preparation and nowhere near enough lube. You had whined at first, but he didn’t seem to hear it. Even if it hurt there was no way you were going to say anything. That might make him stop, and now way in hell were you going to let that happen. It didn’t matter either way, because soon enough he had you reduced to a little puddle of whimpering moans and incoherent mumbles of affection. Despite the now shakiness of his hands and the increase of his heart against your chest, you couldn’t even tell if he was enjoying himself. He never made any sounds past little grunts here and there, but his breathing was heavier and the rhythm of his hips wasn’t very steady anymore. You knew you couldn’t take much more of this. Things were already starting to go blurry; and with the constant warm puffs of air against your neck and the tickle of blonde bangs against your cheek, all focus and coherent thought were lost to the wind. Out of nowhere he seemed to find that one little spot that just made you just _keen_ , and with the first notion of it, he hit it repeatedly until you were gone. There was the sudden rush of relief with a hasty, choked version of his name as all that warmth emptied out onto your stomach but simultaneously, and rather uncomfortably, right back into you. No matter how gross it made you feel, he seemed content with himself, his tongue running over his lips that were quirked upwards now. He quickly leaned down and gave you a too brief kiss on the lips before pulling back.

He made his way up onto his knees, smirking down at your disheveled body before winking and muttering a quick “Thanks babe” as he stood. Pulling his pants back up and buttoning them, he turned left your apartment without another word. You rolled onto your side, arms holding your sweaty and tired frame the way you wish he still would. Staring at the wall, you shook from the cold and how pathetically embarrassed and uncomfortable you were. You hated the way he treated you, but you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

You just loved him too much for your own good. You guess that just wasn’t enough anymore.


End file.
